


Why Not I With Thine?

by loves_books



Series: Nothing In The World Is Single [4]
Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Episode: s02e01 And the Moonbeams Kiss the Sea, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-02 18:24:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5258975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loves_books/pseuds/loves_books
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James can’t quite understand exactly what Robbie was thinking when he planned this evening. He’s known Robbie for years now, and he simply isn’t a man who makes grand gestures like this. Robert Lewis is the master of the understatement.</p>
<p>This is the exact opposite. But James is reading too much into Robbie’s actions and nerves tonight, surely?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why Not I With Thine?

**Author's Note:**

> With thanks to my wonderful beta Wendymr for all her help with this part. Any remaining mistakes are, as always, entirely my fault.

James stands there in front of his own portrait, with Robbie close by his side, for what could be hours but is probably nothing more than a minute, two at the most. He can’t tear his eyes away from it, can’t stop his mind spinning with all the possibilities. He’d really never expected to see this again, and most especially not here.

What had Robbie been thinking? And what is he thinking about now, at this very moment?

James feels he could continue to stand there for days just staring, and possibly drowning in his thoughts, though thankfully Robbie comes back to his senses sooner and nudges him gently with a sturdy shoulder.

“I thought it was you. Had to be you, especially with those lavender-coloured socks on display like that.” Robbie’s voice is soft, seeming almost reluctant to break the silence, and then he takes a step back and away from the picture. Away from James.

Almost unconsciously, James finds himself drawn away with him until they are seated side by side on the sofa, pressed together from shoulder to knee in the same way they always used to sit. While Robbie was with Laura, James had made a more concerted effort to keep his distance, feeling anything more was somehow inappropriate even though the thought never seemed to occur to Robbie. 

It doesn’t feel as important to keep that distance now. In fact, in James’s confusion, he needs the closeness more than ever. 

“So, when did our Philip see you like this, then?” Robbie asks, a lighter tone to his words now. “Did you know he’d painted you?”

And James finds himself filling in the blanks for Robbie, telling him about the time he’d walked down to the river to talk to Philip, staring at that painting of himself the whole time he speaks. They talk for a while about Philip’s new career in teaching – it seems Robbie hadn’t been lucky enough to run into the artist at the exhibition, unlike James – until they each drift back into a more thoughtful silence, their wine glasses abandoned on the coffee table in front of them, still half full.

Calmer now, and somehow more centred simply because Robbie has stayed close while they’ve talked, James’s confusion is fading slightly, though he still can’t quite understand exactly what Robbie was thinking when he planned this evening. He’s known Robbie for years now, and he simply isn’t a man who makes grand gestures like this. Robert Lewis is the master of the understatement.

This is the exact opposite. This is a grand statement, and there has clearly been a lot of planning and forethought, even amongst the nerves. James finds himself oddly touched; if he had been with anyone else, he might even think this was a tentative first date, though he knows he isn’t that lucky.

James shakes himself away from that line of thought, just as he has done a million times before over the years. 

Was it really just chance that led Robbie to this portrait of him? James doesn’t believe in coincidences, though he does still believe in a higher power of some kind. But the fact that he had wandered across this little painting by chance, only to have Robbie do the exact same thing himself, does make him wonder. 

Stupid to think that, perhaps, since Philip had made such a strong impression on both of them all those years ago. Stupid of James to think that Robbie might not also have gone along to an exhibition of the artist’s work.

So, not coincidence then, but simply another much-needed reminder that everything is linked, somehow, even when James can’t see the ties. Or can’t understand them, at least. 

“Nothing in the world is single,” he murmurs, almost without thinking, and Robbie snorts softly by his side, appearing to be more relaxed himself now the painting has been revealed and James is getting over the initial shock.

“Except me. And you, too, unless there’s something important you’ve not told me.”

James smiles and snorts a laugh of his own. “It’s Shelley.”

“Aye, I know. It’s always Shelley, right? Or bloody Shakespeare.” Robbie nudges James’s shoulder again. “But I know what you mean, man. Sometimes it’s a very small world.”

As tempting as it is to lean even further into Robbie’s warm strength, instead James finds himself unable to resist the urge to stand again and move closer to where Philip’s painting of him is hanging in pride of place on Robbie’s wall, examining each brushstroke closely. What he sees makes him feel so special, and almost loved.

He’d forgotten how lifelike that little painting really is; Philip has captured his likeness well. ‘I bought it because it’s you’, Robbie had said earlier, his voice warm and soft, and the thought of Robbie choosing to hang this picture of him alongside all the photos of his family ignites a small fire in James’s belly.

Again, though, there has to be more to it than that. If Robbie thought of James as a member of his family, then why the grand reveal?

The fire burning deep in James’s belly is a familiar one, though he’s spent most of the last eight years trying without success to quench the flame he carries for Robbie. James thought – hoped – he’d manage to extinguish it once and for all, particularly when Robbie and Laura had finally become a couple, but one evening alone with a newly-single Robbie and a few kind words seems to have undone all that effort. 

More than just a few kind words. A dinner invitation, a home-cooked meal no less, and a spectacular oil painting.

He’s reading too much into Robbie’s actions and nerves tonight, surely? He has to be.

Staring at himself, on display there on Robbie’s wall, it takes James another moment to realise he is being watched closely in turn. Robbie has also risen to his feet, though he hasn’t moved far from the sofa. His bright blue eyes are shining with an unreadable emotion, and the flames in James’s belly burn painfully bright.

“Why did you buy the painting, Robbie?” he whispers again, not entirely sure he wants to hear the answer, and at the same time needing to hear it more than almost anything in the world.

“Lady at the gallery said it’d be a good investment,” Robbie tells him with a straight face, before shrugging, folding his arms across his chest in an uncharacteristically nervous gesture. “No, that’s not it, man. You know that’s not it.”

“Then why?” 

“Because.” 

That unreadable something is stronger now in Robbie’s eyes, and James suddenly feels the urge to laugh, though he bites it back. “That’s not an answer.”

Robbie, on the other hand, does laugh briefly, though it’s a quiet, warm sound. “It’s all the answer I have, canny lad.” He pauses, then adds quietly, “I bought it because it’s you, and the thought of someone else owning it made me feel sick. No one else has the right to own that portrait of you. Not a portrait of my James.” A shaky, indrawn breath. “That’s what I thought, what I felt. What I still feel. But beyond that, I’m not sure.”

‘My James’. It’s a possessive little phrase – so atypical of Robbie – and the thought of belonging to this man is everything James has wanted for the longest time. The pieces of this evening’s puzzle are starting to fall into place in James’s mind, though he can scarcely believe the picture they are forming. Can Robbie possibly be suggesting what James hopes he is? 

Emboldened by those simple yet powerful words, he finds himself moving closer to Robbie, until they are standing face to face once again. Robbie takes a deep breath before meeting his gaze, and James is surprised to realise they are both shaking ever so slightly now.

From nerves or plain fear, a distant part of him wonders. For himself, James knows it is hope that makes him shiver with anticipation, though there is also a touch of anxiety there. He could be reading things wrong, after all. Is he taking things one step too far, too fast?

As if sensing James’s uncertainty, Robbie unfolds his arms and reaches out a tentative hand, running it up James’s arm from wrist to shoulder before cupping a warm hand around the back of his neck. James feels his heart start to sing as the other man smiles nervously up at him.

“Nothing in the world is single, remember?” Robbie whispers, and James closes his eyes briefly as he smiles back, remembering the next few lines of the poem.

“All things by a law divine.”

Another soft laugh from Robbie. “I’ll leave the divine to you, James.” 

“Robbie, why did you buy the painting?” he asks, one last time, leaning down slightly before pausing, waiting. This is surely the point where Robbie will step away again, or turn the whole evening into a joke. This is the point of no return, and James can’t take that final step until he is sure. Can’t ask outright, and won’t push Robbie past the point where he is comfortable. He’d said he wasn’t sure, but maybe – 

“Stop thinking, James,” Robbie whispers with another smile, giving James the final rush of confidence he needs to stretch down and bring their lips together for the very first time, in a tentative yet deliberate kiss. 

It feels somehow inevitable, kissing Robbie at last after so many years of lonely dreams and distant longing. It feels right. So when Robbie wraps his free arm around James’s waist rather than pulling away, James lets the kiss deepen naturally, parting his lips to allow Robbie brief entry before they break apart, staying close enough that they are breathing each other’s air.

“Robbie…” he starts, aware that he must be grinning like a loon and not quite knowing what he can possibly say. “That was… amazing, and somewhat unexpected.”

“I hadn’t planned on that happening,” Robbie murmurs, looking similarly stunned but still not stepping away. “Hoped for it, most definitely, but I didn’t dare think it would happen tonight, not without some long and awkward conversations first. No complaints though, pet. Quite the opposite, believe me.”

James’s heart beats a little faster at the casual use of that little nickname, and at the realisation that Robbie might have actually thought about the two of them kissing at some point in the future, though he somehow feels he should be the voice of reason here. 

“Is this the best idea?” he asks reluctantly, surprised by how deep his own voice suddenly sounds. “You’ve not long broken up with Laura, and your life has been turned upside down yet again. Forgive me, but I’m not sure you know what you want right now.”

And the last thing James wants is to hurt Robbie, or to end up being hurt himself if the other man changes his mind, though he can’t and won’t say that out loud. He does know that Robbie would never willingly hurt him, not ever, but this all feels suddenly far too good to be true. 

The silence grows heavy and expectant between them, though Robbie’s hand is still wrapped around the back of James’s neck, warm and steady as they breathe together. No more trembling, not now, not from either of them. 

“Does it have to matter, here and now? Honestly, James, I’m not entirely sure what I want either, not long-term, but...” Robbie pauses, glancing away over James’s shoulder briefly towards where Philip’s painting is hanging. When he looks back up at James, those blue eyes are shining brightly. “But this feels right. Feels good. Better than good, in fact, though it isn’t all about what I want. What do you want? If you want me to stop, to forget this ever happened – ”

“Don’t stop.” James slides his own arms around Robbie’s waist to keep the other man close, bending to press a quick, reassuring kiss to Robbie’s lips. “And please, let’s not forget this. But perhaps we should take this slowly, whatever this is. Though in the interest of full disclosure I should probably confess that what I most dearly want is for you to take me to bed right this very second.”

That startles a laugh out of Robbie, just as James hoped it would, and in unison they each take a half-step back, their arms falling down to their sides. “Why not I with thine, right?” Robbie comments wistfully, almost hopefully, and James can’t help but smile. Shelley, once again.

“Why don’t we start with a little more red wine?” he suggests softly, those nerves threatening to creep back as he leans over to lift their glasses from the coffee table, waiting until Robbie takes one before adding, “And then see where we go from there?”

“Sounds like a perfect plan to me, James,” Robbie replies equally softly with a bright, blinding smile, and James finds that all of his remaining nerves melt immediately away as they gently clink their glasses together in a toast to whatever their future might hold.

**Author's Note:**

> As in earlier parts, the title is taken from 'Love's Philosophy' by Percy Bysshe Shelley.


End file.
